So Kiss Me
by Kara Malarkey
Summary: Severus surprises Harry, and for a moment, everything is perfect, and there is happiness. Utterly sappy, slightly tinged with sadness, but that only makes it sweeter. SSHP drabble one shot, cover image by Elle Moss.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you might recognize. Just taking them out for a colorful stroll.

_**- - - - So Kiss Me - - - -**_

The disbelief was like a black eel swimming around in the depths of his stomach, ever-present and slithering (not that he had anything against "slithering") lemniscates into the mucus lining. But amongst the freshly-cut green green grass made golden by the paper lanterns hung on strings, and the fireflies (which were actually beetles, did you know?) glowing miniature, and the playful pizzicato the quartet was plucking out, and the smell of watered earth pervading his soul, and the spinning of all the night colors around him as Severus spun him gently around, and the warm flesh of the Potion Master's hand in his, and the – and the…

"Harry," he whispered – though it felt more like a sensual mumble.

Harry only made a content humming noise in the back of his throat; the vibrations echoing off his face and onto the warm summer night air.

"You're smiling like an idiot," said he with a breathy chuckle. Harry immediately felt extremely foolish, yet could no sooner wipe the smile off his face than the stars stop twinkling all at the same time.

It actually only made him smile all the wider. He realized they had stopped spinning.

"Do you like it?" came a hushed voice beside his ear. The heat did not make his blood boil or his groin tighten – rather it filled him with a heady comfort, like luscious honey lapping at his being.

"I love it," Harry replied, opening his eyes and seeing that they were simply swaying now, and the fireflies were swaying with them, and so were the confetti on the lantern-string, teased by the summer wind.

He was wearing black, he was wearing khaki. He was wearing silk, he was wearing cotton. His hair was tied back classically, his was in a nest of chaos. His shoes were patent leather, and he was in old sneakers. And he felt like if they met, the world would both explode in perfection and neutralize in entropy.

There was an itch deep in his chest, beyond all the muscle and ligament and tissue. It threatened to burst up his esophagus and dance around the grassy field they were in and illuminate the slumbering heavens. He realized instantly that it was happiness.

Suddenly, he was terrified.

Terrified that he was so inexplicably happy.

Terrified that something this good could never be meant for him.

Terrified that he wasn't allowed this well of golden warmth he had stumbled upon.

Terrified that it would be taken from him – despite being convinced that he didn't deserve it.

Terrified that –

"Harry," the tone was slightly cautious now, and a damp hand rose to cup his cheek, as if to catch the grey matter of his mind that was falling from his ears, disassembling him from the inside out.

Funnily, it worked. He reassembled himself.

"It's nothing, Severus," he reassured the man, and also himself.

Severus nodded, but they both knew that it wasn't nothing, but for now, it was alright for it to be nothing.

Harry looked up at him with shining eyes and hoped he could convey all the warmth, all the joy, the love, the awe and the _fear _he was feeling – all jumbled up inside him. And the eel didn't help matters either.

But suddenly the quartet started playing a wonderful song, and Harry remembered that everything was alright, and that he was happy.

Before he could even realize it himself, Severus was wiping away a lone tear from his cheek. He smiled again; again, he couldn't help himself.

"You're–"

"Smiling like an idiot again, I know."

Severus smiled this time, and Harry found the way it lifted up his whole face much too charming for one person to handle.

The terror was fading now, overwhelmed by the massive tidal waves of golden happiness. Harry thought that it was likely to resurface now and again, but for now, this was enough.

"Kiss me," he whispered. And he found that the itching had been for thattoo.

Severus was golden now, in his mind's eye, and the green field was nothing more than an island amidst unthreatening black mist, the lanterns tied to and from eternity, a single tree grounding them to reality – telling him this was _real._

It couldn't be –

And yet it was.

And he could almost feel the wrenching sob escaping his gut, but the tidal waves washed it away, and all that was left was Severus, and Severus's lips, and his warmth seeping into his bones, and his hands clutching his hips, and his own hands threaded in his black black hair, and the meeting of their lips.

And he kissed him.

* * *

><p>This is wonderfully short, and a small reprieve from the slow but steady dearth I have fallen into due to college. Truly, I am dying.<p>

Inspired by that lovely wedding from 500 Days of Summer, and Sixpence None the Richer's "Kiss Me", both of which are entirely too cliché for words, but ah well. Would you rather I wrote one based on Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up"? HAH, getting Rick Roll'd on fanfiction. Now that's something new.

As for my two ongoing fics, 'Resurface' and 'Rouge My Heart' (almost forgot that last one there), they are not abandoned, and I have lots of things planned for both of them, unfortunately problems arose: college, and timeline dilemmas, consecutively. So please forgive the unforgivable lack of updates. I love you all, and please review 3


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